Post by BuckskinSoul on Jul 5, 2006 17:00:22 GMT -5
You know, there once was a time when freedom was smothered under concrete. The Sun gasped as its once-beautiful view became marred by slavery and oppression. The Moon mourned as its once-dark nights became bleached by artificial daggers of light- and the whole world turned upside down.
You may be familiar with The Era of Forgetting. In truth, it was all about forgetting, and the constant progress of forgetting. Forgetting the whisper of the Winds as it flicked through miles of wildflowers, forgetting the fall of untouched Rain, forgetting the strength of a wild thing, filled to the brim with ancient instinct. And it was, in essence, the forgetting of the truth. The forgetting that existence on this planet is not a promise, but a privilege. That the almighty were not the Destroyers, but the Stars. The Sun. The Moon. The Soil. And the Rain. The quiet forgiving rain that always came. But even the rain became shut out by the Destroyers, as they lived up to their namesake, and destroyed.
Finally, the sun and the moon and the stars and the soil and the rain decided that enough was enough. Their children had been bleeding under the harness of these ungrateful Destroyed for long enough. And so, the rain fell, and fell and fell, In an angry torrent that gushed endlessly- the sun was never seen through Rain's endless wall. Rain flooded the Destroyer's realm and flushed them out. Sun was not seen, but Sun was felt. Sun burned with such an intensity that the water the cascaded through the sky sizzled as it hit the mean concrete bellow. In the watery heat, the earth boiled. The Moon grabbed the ocean, and pulled its salty waves on land, assisting the Great Washing. The Stars spoke with Soil and devised a plan.
A plan to shelter their children- their wounded children that had hurt for so long. The Stars shone brightly through the clouds, and only the pure ones saw them, for the Destroyers had forgotten how to read the stars. The Soil bent over itself and created a haven for the creatures marred by greed no longer. The creatures of hoof, and wing, and paw, and claw, and fur. Their eyes were blank with pain and fear as they filed into their hiding place in the great storm; hope had long been forgotten by these empty souls, but by their children it would not be.
Their children would be born for hope.
[/center]You may be familiar with The Era of Forgetting. In truth, it was all about forgetting, and the constant progress of forgetting. Forgetting the whisper of the Winds as it flicked through miles of wildflowers, forgetting the fall of untouched Rain, forgetting the strength of a wild thing, filled to the brim with ancient instinct. And it was, in essence, the forgetting of the truth. The forgetting that existence on this planet is not a promise, but a privilege. That the almighty were not the Destroyers, but the Stars. The Sun. The Moon. The Soil. And the Rain. The quiet forgiving rain that always came. But even the rain became shut out by the Destroyers, as they lived up to their namesake, and destroyed.
Finally, the sun and the moon and the stars and the soil and the rain decided that enough was enough. Their children had been bleeding under the harness of these ungrateful Destroyed for long enough. And so, the rain fell, and fell and fell, In an angry torrent that gushed endlessly- the sun was never seen through Rain's endless wall. Rain flooded the Destroyer's realm and flushed them out. Sun was not seen, but Sun was felt. Sun burned with such an intensity that the water the cascaded through the sky sizzled as it hit the mean concrete bellow. In the watery heat, the earth boiled. The Moon grabbed the ocean, and pulled its salty waves on land, assisting the Great Washing. The Stars spoke with Soil and devised a plan.
A plan to shelter their children- their wounded children that had hurt for so long. The Stars shone brightly through the clouds, and only the pure ones saw them, for the Destroyers had forgotten how to read the stars. The Soil bent over itself and created a haven for the creatures marred by greed no longer. The creatures of hoof, and wing, and paw, and claw, and fur. Their eyes were blank with pain and fear as they filed into their hiding place in the great storm; hope had long been forgotten by these empty souls, but by their children it would not be.
Their children would be born for hope.
